Classic Horror Behind the Scenes: The Villains That Pursued Vincent Price

The erudite star of horror films was also a marvelous public speaker and a famously nice guy, as I found out for myself one night in 1979.

By Bill Fleck, author of the Rondo-nominated CHANEY’S BABY, available here.

“My dad was the second most popular lecturer in America after Eleanor Roosevelt,” inspirational author and speaker Victoria Price wrote in 2015 about her father, the erudite horror film star Vincent Price. “He was smart, funny, beautifully spoken, totally real, and he had that incredibly mellifluous voice. Who wouldn’t want to hear him speak?!

“One of his most popular lectures was called THE VILLAINS STILL PURSUE ME,” she went on, “in which he talked about his career and the very juicy role that villains play in drama. My dad believed, ‘The villain is a very necessary part of the plot of any drama, because drama is the story of conflict—the conflict between good and evil. And it is true of any drama. The villain keeps up the suspense, and is a much more interesting character to play than the hero, because the hero, you know, is just so damn…good. He just goes right down the straight and narrow path. While the villain has to be kind of devious all the time. He’s hiding behind a million faces all the time, never to let you know whether he is good or bad. And he needn’t be a drab or unattractive character, by a long shot.’”

Of course, Price was correct—one-hundred percent.

And Vincent Price himself was certainly not a “drab or unattractive character,” not by a long shot—as I found out for myself one night so long ago.

October 28, 1979. A Sunday evening, fittingly close to Halloween. I find myself sitting in the auditorium of Middletown High school, a wonderfully Modern Gothic building designed by Robert R. Graham and built as a Works Progress Administration project at 112 Grand Avenue in Middletown, NY. [1] With me are my dad, Jack—a correction officer and part-time photographer—my mom, Marilyn—a gifted elementary school teacher—and my younger brother, Steve, 13.

Me? I’ll be 17 in roughly two months. I’m pretty close to what will be my final six-feet-and-a-smidge height, and I’m painfully skinny at 130 pounds. My light brown hair is as long as my father will allow it to be, and I’m plagued by zits.

But none of that matters this night in the auditorium at Middletown High School.

We’re about to watch Vincent Price give his VILLAINS lecture.

[Above: Vincent Price began giving his THE VILLAINS STILL PURSUE ME lecture in the early 1970s. By the time we saw him on October 28, 1979, he’d been doing the talk for nearly ten years.]

It’s my father’s fault that we’re here. At 50, he’s a lifelong fan of films…especially horror films. My brother and I were baptized into the faith—as were so many others—by ABBOTT AND COSTELLO MEET FRANKENSTEIN (1948) when I was in third grade. I was completely unaware of Vincent Price at the time, even though it was his voice as The Invisible Man that provided the closing joke. My brother gravitated toward Bela Lugosi’s Dracula; I was wowed by Lon Chaney, Jr. as The Wolfman [2], even encouraging my unsuspecting friends to call me “Talbert” (in imitation of Bud Abbott’s New Jersey-accented version of the character’s name).

But my dad pushed us even further.

“If you really want to see these monsters in action,” he advised, “you have to see them before Abbott and Costello.”

Of course, that wasn’t easy in 1971. There was no cloud, no Blu-Rays, no DVDs, no VHS, and we were as yet unaware of Castle Films. In Ellenville, NY, we had channels 2, 4, 5, 7, 9, 11, 12, and 13. If we were going to see the monsters in action before A&C, one of those stations would have to be airing them.

And, one by one over the years—usually on channel 5 or 9—they did.

True, that often required that my dad wake us up in the middle of the night: “Men! THE BRIDE OF FRANKENSTEIN is on!”

And, true, once we became hip to Castle Films, we’d have to be happy with viewing a roughly 10-minute digest of the classics until we could catch the “full”—usually edited for TV—version.

But we persevered. We subscribed to FAMOUS MONSTERS. [3] We combed through TV GUIDE, set alarms for the middle of the night, and captured precious audio on cassette tapes. Sometimes, we’d put a Super-8 camera on a tripod and shoot grainy film clips as well.

Plus, we read everything we could get ahold of. Everson’s CLASSICS OF THE HORROR FILM. Beck’s HEROES OF THE HORRORS. Bojarski and Beals’s THE FILMS OF BORIS KARLOFF. Gifford’s A PICTORIAL HISTORY OF HORROR MOVIES. Moss’s KARLOFF AND COMPANY.

If I remember correctly, our first Vincent Price film was THE PIT AND THE PENDULUM (1961). I think it aired on Channel 7’s 4:30 MOVIE series, along with THE MASQUE OF THE RED DEATH (1964) and THE TOMB OF LIGEIA (1965). Of course, we were hooked…and luckily, Beck’s HEROES OF THE HORRORS had a chapter on Price that filled in the basics:

Born Vincent Leonard Price, Jr. on May 27, 1911, the last of four children in an affluent St. Louis, MO family…

[Above: Vincent Price as a child.]

A 1933 graduate of Yale University, majoring in English and minoring in art history…

Bitten by the acting bug, but finding decent parts hard to get because of a lack of experience…

“I drove a bus for the students at Riverdale Country School,” he’d recount years later, “and after that, I was an assistant teacher of English, German, and dramatics and art. I had to eat. I could have written home for funds, but somehow that wasn’t playing the game.”

Studying abroad, he intended to graduate with a master’s degree in fine arts from London’s Courtald Institute of Art.

Instead, he ended up on stage at the Gate Theatre.

“I lied my head off to an English producer,” he’d explain, “and with such good effect, that in no time at all I was given a part in the London production of CHICAGO.”

Greater success was to come. By 1936, the tall (six-four), handsome, blue-eyed actor with the magnificent voice was starring on Broadway as Prince Albert opposite Helen Hayes in VICTORIA REGINA.

Other credits racked up quickly.

THE LADY HAS A HEART. THE SHOEMAKER’S HOLIDAY and HEARTBREAK HOUSE for Orson Welles’ Mercury Theater.

[Above: Vincent Price performs as a member of Orson Welles’s Mercury Theater in 1937.]

In April of 1938, he married actress Edith Barrett. In August of 1940, their son Vincent Barrett was born.

“I’ve been a thoughtful husband and father,” Price will crack years later in VILLAINS. “Two or three times, in fact!” [4]

Soon, Hollywood came calling—Price signed a contract with Universal that allowed him to keep to the stage for six months out of the year. His first brush with horror came in his third film; his character is drowned in a vat of wine by Boris Karloff and Basil Rathbone in Rowland V. Lee’s TOWER OF LONDON (1939).

The actor himself was justifiably afraid that he might be drowned as well.

“They fixed a handrail at the bottom of the barrel so that I could dive down and hang onto it,” he remembered. “The liquid was water—mixed with Coca-Cola—but Basil and Boris had used the barrel to deposit cigarette butts and old bottles.”

Holding on at the bottom for a seemingly endless ten counts, a panicky Price is relieved when a couple of huskies finally rip the top off and haul him out feet first.

“I got a round of applause from the crew,” he went on, “but I was disappointed to find my two co-stars, who had been very nice to me so far, not on the set. I thought the least they could do was lead the applause. But they appeared a few moments later with a beautifully-wrapped gift—a carton of Cokes!”

His very next film was THE INVISIBLE MAN RETURNS (1940). Studio publicity announced that Universal was looking for an unknown actor to play the role of Geoffrey Radcliffe, and Price—at the time—fit that description. Accused of killing his brother, Radcliffe becomes invisible—and battles the insanity the formula causes—so as to smoke out the real culprit. Like Claude Rains before him (THE INVISIBLE MAN, 1933), Price’s distinctive voice handily carries the performance on screen; off screen, his knowledge of German allowed him to easily communicate with director Joe May, who spoke no English. The film made $815,000…the equivalent of nearly $17.5 million when adjusted for inflation at this writing.

[Above: Price had an early brush with the horror/fantasy genre when starring in THE INVISIBLE MAN RETURNS (1940). Like Claude Rains before him, Price’s mellifluous voice carried the film.]

Still, his best roles remained on the boards. In 1941, he starred as the murderous Jack Manningham on Broadway in ANGEL STREET (aka GAS LIGHT), greatly enjoying the nearly 1300 performances.

“I was launched as a villain,” he enthused, “a sadistic heavy, a suave killer, a wife-beater, a sexy extrovert, a diabolical introvert—take your pick!”

[Above: Price credited the play ANGEL STREET with launching his career as a villain.]

Better film roles followed. He was excellent as the cad Shelby Carpenter in the famous film noir LAURA (1944); ditto as the villainous Nicholas Van Ryn in DRAGONWYCK (1946). Interestingly, Price was almost passed over for the latter part because of the former:

“I had to fight like the devil for this part,” he recalled. “My bosses kept remembering me as the good-natured guy in LAURA and I insisted I wasn’t that type.”

[Above: Price was excellent as the cad Shelby Carpenter opposite Gene Tierney in the film noir classic LAURA (1944).]

Of course, it was HOUSE OF WAX in 1953—a remake of MYSTERY OF THE WAX MUSEUM, which had starred Lionel Atwill—that launched Price as a horror star. And yet, in something of a DRAGONWYCK situation, Price almost didn’t take this part, either.

“[H]e received two offers in the same week,” his daughter Victoria notes. “One was for a lead in a Broadway play, the other a lead in a movie, and in the end, his perpetual concern with money won out over higher aspirations and he chose the movie.”

The play was WE’RE NO ANGELS, and Price often wondered what might have been had he turned down HOUSE OF WAX…especially during shooting in early months of 1953, since the 3-D process forced the then 41-year-old actor to perform most of his own stunts.

“It wasn’t fun,” he noted, “because in one scene, I had to run under a falling balcony, which was two thousand pounds of steel and timber, and the damn set caught on fire.”

Furthermore, his horrific makeup for the film caused issues.

“It took almost three hours to put on and as long to take off,” he explained, “and both processes were very painful…It took my face months to heal because it was raw from peeling off ‘wax’ each night.”

[Above: HOUSE OF WAX (1953) resulted in Price becoming a horror film star. Remarkably, he almost turned the film down to star in the play WE’RE NO ANGELS.]

Still—always a good sport—Price helped to promote HOUSE OF WAX in theaters around the country. (Warner Brothers also hired Bela Lugosi to ramp up business by walking around in his Dracula cape…with an actor in an ape suit chained to a leash!)

At one point, Price stood in for a wax figure of himself at Buena Park Wax Museum, which allowed him to indulge his impish sense of humor.

“I was standing in a menacing pose with a hypodermic needle,” he remembered. “As the people came closer to look, I squirted water from the needle at them. It was great fun.”

As Victoria notes, the artistic—and financial—success of the highly-touted 3-D film “would send his career in a far different direction.” [5]

And so it was that, off screen, the affable actor—who avoided conflict at all costs—shared a number of jokes and had a few drinks with friends…

While on screen, he fiendishly buried his sister alive in HOUSE OF USHER (1960).

[Above: Price excelled as the tortured Roderick in Roger Corman’s HOUSE OF USHER (1960), the first of many collaborations between the director and the star.]

Or, off screen, he shared his vast knowledge of gourmet cooking in a series of excellent books written with his second wife, Mary…

While on screen, he viciously roasted suspected witches in THE WITCHFINDER GENERAL (1968).

[Above: Price gave the most chilling performance of his career in THE WITCHFINDER GENERAL (1968). Director Michael Reeves, however, was unhappy with the casting, and clashed with Price on set. Eventually, the two made peace.]

Or, off screen, he was an avid collector of paintings and a universally renowned art expert…

While on screen, he made an art out of comic revenge as THE ABOMINABLE DR. PHIBES (1971)…and not-so-comic revenge in THEATER OF BLOOD (1973).

[Above: two sides of the revenge coin—comic/horror in THE ABOMINABLE DR. PHIBES (1971)…and horror/comic as enraged actor Edward Lionheart in THEATER OF BLOOD (1973).]

Along the way, this very charitable, very in-demand thespian somehow managed to give more than four hundred lectures a year on art and cooking.

“Vincent loved the lecture tours,” his daughter asserts. “They gave him the opportunity to talk to people one-on-one, to see what was happening in cities, small towns, and universities around the country and, in essence, to pay his audiences back for his success.”

By the time we were to see him that October night in 1979, he had been doing the VILLAINS STILL PURSUE ME lecture for nearly ten years.

[Above: Price was an in-demand lecturer, giving more than 400 talks a year. As such, he appeared in ads for Best Western motels. This one appeared in NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC in April 1973.]

As Victoria Price explains, “This talk, which he performed around the country for almost twenty years, ran the gamut from anecdotes about his villainous roles to his tales of Hollywood; from an assessment of current villainous actors to a description of the place of villainy within Aristotle’s dramatic theory; from a retelling of ANGEL STREET to a speech from RICHARD III.”

As I recall, the Fleck family was seated about halfway back and slightly to the right in the auditorium that night. We clutched our programs, and—on the off-chance that Price might be signing autographs—a couple of books as well: HEROES OF THE HORRORS for me, and VINCENT PRICE UNMASKED (by James Robert Parish and Steven Whitney) for my brother.

After what seemed like hours, but was probably only twenty minutes, the lights finally dimmed, and the tall, silver-haired actor dressed entirely in black—save for a tie spotted with red and white—towered above us on stage.

He began immediately with self-deprecating humor, nothing that when he first got into films, he considered changing his name:

“Vincent Price,” he scoffed. “That sounds so pedestrian, like I’m someone from Missouri. Which I am!”

He also expressed his love for longtime friends Peter Lorre and Boris Karloff—“some of the best actors who ever lived”—as well as his admiration for Bela Lugosi.

He then noted how the recent removal of his trademark mustache had been causing him some issues. [6] To wit:

Walking down the street, he realized a slightly older woman was grilling him with a stare. She spread her legs a bit and put her hands on her hips.

“You are, aren’t you!” she said, as if accusing him of a crime.

“Well, I don’t know,” Price replied with a smile, attempting to be modest.

“No,” she insisted, “you are, aren’t you!”

“Well, I might be—”

“You are Boris Karloff!”

Suddenly taken aback, Price noted that he’d struggled to reply:

“I’m very sorry, madame, but Mr. Karloff is dead!”

“Oh,” she’d said with a frown. “Well, then, who the hell are you!?”

[Above: Price starred as Oscar Wilde in the hit play DIVERSIONS AND DELIGHTS sans his trademark mustache.]

But probably the funniest anecdote of the night involved shooting the climactic scene in THE FLY (1958). According to Price, he and his co-star Herbert Marshall almost didn’t make it through.

“Herbert Marshall and I had to examine a spider’s web which held a small fly, which was supposed to be my brother.”

As the scene plays out, a spider is closing in slowly on the fly…which cries out in an unintentionally comic, high-pitched voice, “Help me! Help me!”

“It took a whole day to film the scene,” Price said, “for we kept laughing ourselves sick. In the end, we had to film it standing back-to-back—we just couldn’t look at each other in the face.”

[Above: Price and co-star Herbert Marshall found the “Help me! Help me!” climax of THE FLY (1958) to be so ridiculous that they couldn’t stop laughing. Price enthusiastically signed the photo above in my copy of HEROES OF THE HORRORS by Calvin Thomas Beck.]

And then it hit me—wasn’t there a picture of that very scene in HEROES OF THE HORRORS? A quick flip through the book in the dark confirmed my suspicions—there was a picture of the scene on page 295…and Beck’s caption noted the very story Price had just relayed…

As his daughter would note years later, Price closed the lecture with a scene from George Bernard Shaw’s DON JUAN IN HELL…an exchange between Don Juan and the Devil, which he ended thus:

“And I also know, Don Juan, that whatever they say about me, the Devil, in churches on earth, it is universally conceded in good society that the Prince of Darkness is a gentle man.”

There followed much enthusiastic applause, of course, and then the house lights came up; Price was actually willing to take some questions.

My memory of what he was asked that night is fuzzy. I remember a fellow a bit older than me saying that he did impressions…would Price like to hear Bela Lugosi and Boris Karloff live again? Price demurred, but in the most kindly, gentlemanly way I could imagine; somehow, in spite of being shut down, the impressionist’s ego was spared.

And then he was asked if he would sign an autograph.

“Well,” he replied, “they cost a half-a-penny apiece.”

“I think that’s a polite way of saying he doesn’t have time,” my mom whispered, leaning toward us. [7]

But when the actor left the stage, a tentative line seemed to be forming…and, as luck would have it, we were being escorted into the green room where The Man himself was, indeed, seated, and willing to sign.

Somehow, my dad managed to position himself in front of Price, snapping available-light pictures on Ektachrome film with his trusty 35mm Minolta. In no way was Price troubled by this. He greeted everyone warmly, making eye contact, chatting and smiling a great deal. He seemed genuinely interested in meeting and connecting with people. At one point, he was surprised by a blast from the past—an actress he’d worked with on stage many moons prior dropped by for a visit. [8] His joy at seeing her again was obvious to everyone.

[Above: Price was genuinely surprised and touched by an impromptu visit from an actress friend whose name I don’t know. My dad snapped these photos on Ektachrome in available light in 35mm the night of October 28, 1979.]

Finally, it was our turn to meet him. His presence was powerful, even at the age of 68 and seated. But he also gave off a positive aura—this was someone you just knew was friendly.

We greeted him by saying how much we’d enjoyed his lecture and how we’d recently been on the phone with FAMOUS MONSTERS editor Forrest J. Ackerman. [9] Price chuckled at this, praising 4E and signing our programs. He seemed a bit taken aback when asked to sign VINCENT PRICE UNMASKED—I only recently learned that he wasn’t a fan of such projects—but graciously signed the book anyway.

And then, we put page 295 of HEROES OF THE HORRORS in front of him…

“Ooh,” he said, recoiling in mock-horror. “That’s the scene! Help me! Help me!”

[Above: “Ooh! That’s the scene! Help me! Help me!” Vincent Price signs the picture from THE FLY in HEROES OF THE HORRORS by Calvin Thomas Beck. L to R: me, my mother Marilyn Fleck, my brother Steve, and—of course—Mr. Price.]

Of course, genuine laughter erupted once more as he recounted the incident. And we felt both lucky and proud to have unknowingly brought an item that he would relate to so well…and with such humor.

Although we didn’t get any indication from Price that we needed to move along, there were others behind us who were anxious to meet him, so we said our goodbyes and went off back to Ellenville. I felt like I was flying on a magic carpet for days after—producer Julia Phillips famously wrote in her autobiography, “Never meet your idols” [10], but Vincent Price was the absolute exception to that generally sound rule.

Much was ahead for Vincent Price after that night in October of 1979. The narration for Michael Jackson’s THRILLER. Films like THE GREAT MOUSE DETECTIVE, THE WHALES OF AUGUST, and EDWARD SCISSORHANDS. Numerous TV appearances such as THE MUPPET SHOW. I corresponded with him a few times over those years, and was always lucky to receive a brief but sincere reply. [11] Sadly, he lost his beloved third wife—actress Coral Browne—to cancer in 1991. He died on October 25, 1993, aged 82.

[Above: Price became a beloved icon. He performed the narration on Michael Jackson’s THRILLER, and appeared on a variety of TV shows. Here, he comically performs on THE MUPPETS.]

But horror icons like Price don’t die in the way most of us do. Their spirits are kept alive in the ever-increasing appreciation for their body of work. Blogs such as mine are intended to help

honor that work, in whatever small way they can.

According to his daughter, Price was apt to say, “Acting is make-believe. And it’s a twofold make-believe. I must make myself believe I am the character I am portraying. And if I can make myself believe it, then I can make you believe it! And so, it is a double act of make believe.”

But Vincent Price never had to make believe that he was a nice, down-to-earth, real person. That is exactly who he was.

[Above: After 1979, I occasionally corresponded with Mr. Price. He always responded…partly because I always provided him with a self-addressed, stamped envelope.]

Notes

[1] The building features two striking towers, and today houses the Twin Towers Middle School.

[2] The billed spelling of the character’s name in that film.

[3] Issue #157 is generously dedicated to my brother and me.

[4] Price married three times: to Edith (1938-1948), to Mary Grant (1949-1973; their daughter, Victoria, was born on April 27, 1962), and finally to Coral Browne (1974-her death in 1991).

[5] HOUSE OF WAX was one of the biggest hits of 1953. Hungarian-born director Andre De Toth, blind in one eye since childhood, reportedly couldn’t fathom all the fuss over 3-D. As a result, he used the trick sparingly. “The 3-D tricks just happened—there weren’t a lot of them,” Price noted. “Later on, they threw everything at everybody.” Based upon my seeing a re-release in the 1980s, I’m happy to say that the film is excellent in 3-D.

[6] He’d been touring the country as Oscar Wilde in the hit play DIVERSIONS AND DELIGHTS. Wilde did not wear a mustache.

[7] It wasn’t until I collected my dad’s slides of the event from my mom the month before I wrote this blog that she told me, with her usual vivid humor, “It was getting late—I just wanted to get the hell out of there. I didn’t know much about Vincent Price. I knew he was a handsome man, and I recognized his voice, but I didn’t see any of his films. That was all your father.”

[8] For years, I thought it might have been Helen Hayes, but that doesn’t appear to be the case.

[9] The climax of an interesting chain of events…My brother had recently been hospitalized with a serious case of salmonella poisoning. My mother had ordered a back issue of FAMOUS MONSTERS with Bela Lugosi on the cover to cheer him up…but the mag contained nothing about Bela inside! (I think it was the 1970 FEARBOOK.) My mother wrote a scathing letter to the publishers, and got a phone call from 4E as a result. He explained that he chose everything BUT the cover, and apologized profusely. He asked to speak with us, but we were out playing, so he encouraged my mom to have us call him back. When we got home, she said she’d gotten a call from FAMOUS MONSTERS and the guy was expecting a ring. When we asked who it was, she said, “Someone named Forry Ackerman.” We exclaimed, “FORRY ACKERMAN!?” in unison, and immediately called him back. He spent a good deal of time chatting with us about monsters and our future plans…and—without us knowing it until we got it in the mail—dedicated FM issue #157 to us. Over the years, I spoke with 4E from time to time on the phone, and he—like Price—was always funny and generous with his time.

[10] Phillips, Julia. YOU’LL NEVER EAT LUNCH IN THIS TOWN AGAIN. New York: Random House, 1991. Print.

[11] I was smart enough to always send a stamped, self-addressed envelope.

Sources

Beck, Calvin Thomas. HEROES OF THE HORRORS. New York: Collier Books, 1975. Print.

Fuller, Peter. “TOWER OF LONDON (1939. When Vincent Price almost drowned in a butt of Coca-Cola.” The Sound of Vincent Price. March 30, 2016. Web.

Plumberg, Gail. “I’m Kind of a Pussycat.” Springfield Daily News. Feb. 4, 1977, p. 15. Print.

Price, Victoria. “The Villains Still Pursue Me.” Daily Practice of Joy: Archived Blog Posts, 2015-2016. August 23, 2015. Web.

Price, Victoria. VINCENT PRICE: A DAUGHTER’S BIOGRAPHY. New York: St. Martin’s Griffin, 1999. Print.

The photos contained herein are for educational purposes only; I do not own the copyrights.